


The Newlywed Game

by Satine86



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Journalism, Banter, Companionable Snark, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Swearing, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: Up and coming journalist Raquel Holbrook is going undercover for a story that could make or break her career. When she's teamed up Jeremy Langford, she's not sure which is more difficult: getting the story, or not killing him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hi this is dedicated to the ficchat crew since y'all prompted this a long time ago. And extra dedication to CharlieChaplin2 for a request that kicked this into high gear.

“I know I can do this!” Raquel Holbrook, junior journalist at The Galaxy Gazette, slammed a fist on her editor’s desk, eyes flashing and sable hair practically bristling like an angry cat. 

She had spent the last twenty minutes pitching her idea to go undercover in order to hopefully gain access to Alec Kavanaugh, rumored money launderer for the rich and richer. It was a risky story, given his connections and the fact he had eluded law enforcement for as long as he had. That wasn’t going to stop her though. If she broke this story it could launch her career. 

“Every single source says the same thing,” she continued. “He uses the country club as a safe space to make deals, to connect. We know when he’ll be there. We know he’ll be working. I could get access to so much. I could get names and dates and offshore accounts. It could be huge!”

“I realize that, but I still don’t like the idea of one of my journalists going in there, and doing the job of a cop!”

“We both know the cops aren’t going to do shit about this, so just let me go.” She sighed heavily, sank down into the chair sat before the cluttered desk. 

“Fine, you win.” Arty Mallone leaned back in his chair, ran a hand through his prematurely white hair and regarded the most current pain in his ass with a stern look. “But you are going to have an airtight cover story and you’re not going in alone.”

Raquel nodded. “Deal.” 

“Remember, you agreed to this. No matter who I partner you up with.” 

“I’m sure it will be fine, Arty. We’ll work out a great cover story, and we’ll each channel our inner Meryl Streep. No one will ever know the truth. I promise.” Raquel stood up and headed toward the door, pausing when she was half-way out. She leaned back and looked at Arty. “Just as long as it isn’t Jeremy.” 

 

***

 

Of course it had to be Jeremy Langford. He had been the proverbial thorne in her side since she had started in the office. He was overly familiar, obnoxiously charming in that frat boy kind of way, and way too smart for his own good. Top of his journalism class at Berkeley, he had a string of bylines and awards to his name and he wasn’t afraid to remind you of that. 

They got along like oil and water. 

Raquel took several fortifying breaths, and repeated the mantra she had taken up since Arty had told her who exactly she had been partnered with: “It’s for the story. It’s for the story. It’s for the story.” 

Finally collecting herself, she marched toward Jeremy ’s desk with purpose. He was looking at his computer, sipping coffee from his favorite chipped mug. His shaggy blond head was bent forward slightly, blue eyes skimming over a scanned document of some kind. He noticed her approach before she even reached his desk, almost as if he had been waiting, and sat up to slowly swivel his chair to face her. 

“I assume you’ve spoken with Arty?” she asked by way of greeting, arms crossed. 

His eyes lit up and a grin split his face, pearly whites visible behind his ridiculously scruffy beard. “I did,” he crooned in an obnoxiously upbeat voice. “Imagine my surprise when I heard I would be working with you. Oh, look at that scowl. Such a pleasure first thing in the morning!” 

“Look, I’m not thrilled about this and I doubt you are either. So let’s just act like professionals, and come up with our cover story.” 

“Oh, you haven’t talked to Arty today.” Jeremy’s breath hissed on an inhale. “See, Arty had a brilliant idea about that.” He lifted his finger in an ‘ah-ha’ gesture, imitating their editor. 

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Raquel muttered. Jeremy actually laughed at that. He was enjoying this entirely too much. 

This was for the story. 

“See, Arty thought that since I’m young and good looking, and you’re young and good looking. We should be young and good looking together.” He reached out and gently took her hand between both of his. She was surprised at how warm they felt. “As husband and wife,” he finished, batting his eyes at her. 

Raquel yanked her hand from his grasp. “You have got to be kidding me.” 

“Nope.” Jeremy sat back in his chair and shook his head slowly. “I told the boss man you would be pissed, but no one ever listens to me so…” He shrugged.

“Why did he choose you anyway?”

“You know exactly why,” Jeremy said. “You’ve never gone in with a cover before, meanwhile I’m the one suffering for three months in max security with a bunch of white supremacists for company. These people you’re looking into are basically the one percent’s answer to mobsters, Raquel. You’re going to need someone who is quick on their feet, and can stick to their story under pressure. I’m your best option.”

Letting out a deep breath in a sigh, Raquel had to begrudgingly admit he was right. Arty had made a good choice, at least on paper. She wasn’t sure about anything else, however. Least of all the whole married angle. 

“So, husband and wife?” 

“Yes, newlyweds.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jeremy.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea.” He held up his hands. “And we’ll be meeting later to work on the story with Arty, he’s very interested in this whole thing. Before that though, I do want to set a few ground rules. Comfort levels and all that.”

Raquel perked up a little bit at that, pleased at his turn into professionalism. If they could clean him up a bit, get rid of his most recent jailbird vibe this whole thing might actually work. “Okay, what kind of rules?” 

“Well, as newlyweds I’m sure we would be quite infatuated with one another. So I was thinking about pet names? How do you feel about ‘sweetums’?” He looked up at her and gave her his best shit-eating grin. 

Instead of answering, Raquel turned on her heel and stalked away. She decided it would be best to avoid Jeremy until it was time for the meeting later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those in the know: spot the cameo!

“What the fuck is this, Arty? The Newlywed Game?” 

Raquel tried to suppress an amused snort as she and Jeremy entered Arty’s office. There was an abundance of construction paper and markers strewn about his desk until it resembled a first grade art class, and what appeared to be a stack of question cards tucked in his hand.

Arty gave Jeremy a placating smile. “Actually, yes. I figure it’ll be a more entertaining way for you to get to know each other.” 

“So we’re going with two truths and a lie?” 

“Something like that,” Arty said.

“What do you mean?” Raquel looked up at Jeremy. 

“The more truths you pepper into your cover story, the easier it is to remember. Not majorly personal shit, necessarily. Just little things to make it seem real. So that’s why when I was undercover as Jerry the wannabe White Supremacist.” He shuddered. “I had an aversion to mushrooms; true. As well as brown people; not true.”

“Because that’s the same thing,” Raquel snorted. 

“To those fuckwits it is.” 

“Anyway,” Arty injected, “the point being you can get to know each other and have some basis for the cover. Speaking of, here you go.” He handed them each a manilla envelope with their new identity and cover story, along with various bits of needed identification. Wedding rings included. 

“Oh, this is nice work, Arty. Zeke’s actually getting good.” Jeremy studied his new driver’s license with admiration. 

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear your praise.”

Raquel mostly ignored them as she glanced over the story: they would be playing Jeremy and Raquel Lancaster, both from fairly affluent backgrounds. Jeremy, a stockbroker, was supposed to have hit it big after making some risky but worthwhile investments. The rest of the documents detailed schooling, places of work, and other pertinent information that could be easily faked. 

“I hate us already,” Jeremy whispered to her once he had finished glancing over his paperwork. She covered her mouth to hide her smile.

“So now we play your impromptu Newlywed Game to add in the details?” Raquel quirked an eyebrow at Arty.

“Correct. We’re already off to a great start, you know now that Jeremy hates mushrooms. And Raquel here detests asparagus.”

“Got it, no veggies on the job.” Jeremy snickered and leaned forward, picking up a piece of construction paper. “If we ace this little game do we get gold stars?” 

“Only if you’re good.” Arty slapped his hand. “Which may prove impossible for you, Jeremy.” 

Jeremy sat back in his chair, trying to look contrite. Or whatever passed for contrite in Jeremy’s world. He regarded Arty as if he were a beloved teacher and he was the star pupil. Raquel nearly snorted out loud. 

“I swear I’ll be on my best behavior, and I’ll study extra hard.” He crossed his hard with his finger. 

“Who knew all it took this entire time to get you to behave was to offer you a construction paper star. My life would’ve been so much easier if I’d known.” 

“See!” Jeremy leaned toward Raquel and grinned. “It’s working, we’re learning so much about each other already! Good job Arty, I’m going to make you a construction paper star.” He snatched up a sheet of paper and scissors before Arty could stop him. 

Arty seemed less than thrilled and cleared his throat loudly. “All right you two, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat the huns?” Jeremy said absently, completely focused on cutting the paper.

This time Raquel couldn’t help but laugh, a bit of a guffaw as it was startled out of her. She slapped a hand to her mouth. Arty barely seemed to notice as he sorted the cards in his hands for their weird round of questions and answers. 

Jeremy, however, caught her eye and smiled. A small one, that just lifted the corner of his mouth. It was probably the most sincere she’d ever seen him. 

She decided to return it.

 

***

"Why did that have to take so long?" Raquel stretched her arms over head, and took in a deep breathe. It was late in the day, and she and Jeremy having finally been dismissed were just stepping outside into the street.

“It was only a couple hours, I say we got off pretty easy.”

“Do you do this every time you go undercover for a story?” 

“Just about. Arty’s OCD that way. At least this time I had company.” He offered up a smile that Raquel could only describe as ‘cheesy’ before glancing down at his watch. “So, putting aside the fact you loathe me, would you like to go get a drink or even a bite to eat and actually maybe build up some kind of rapport? It’ll be my treat.”

Raquel thought about it for a brief moment. There would be no escaping him once they were at the country club and playing at a happily ever after for all and sundry. There was really no point in putting it off, and at least this way she would get dinner out of it. Besides, he looked earnest enough. 

“Okay, let’s go. I mean I would be a fool to pass up a free meal,” she said with a cheeky smile. 

His smile widened. “All right. If you’re not opposed to greasy food I know a place near here that has some great burgers.”

“Lead the way.” Raquel gestured as if she were making way for a king. She was surprised when he took her hand, looped it through his arm rather gallantly, and started guiding her down the street. 

The place he led her to was a hole-in-the-wall-not-quite-a-dive-but-close-enough brick building in need of some repairs. It wasn’t the type of place that Raquel would even eye twice on a regular day, nor a place that she would really figure Jeremy would frequent, although she couldn’t really explain why she thought that. Given his usual disheveled frat boy look. However, she was pleasantly surprised when they stepped inside and found a rather quaint looking bar inside with a ring of booths with high, sloping wooden partitions, and an immaculate looking bar display lining the back wall. It was almost like she had stepped into an English pub. 

There were several people peppering the room, and on the stools lining the bar, but it was hardly crowded. Raquel figured it was the regulars. There was a slim bartender behind the bar, her sheath of thick hair as black as Raquel’s. The bartender greeted Jeremy with a nod when she noticed he’d stepped inside. 

“Grab a booth, I’ll get the drinks. What will you have?” Jeremy asked pleasantly. 

“Gin and tonic, extra lime.” 

Raquel slid into one of the booths to the left, where there was nary a soul, and sank back against the surprisingly plush cushions. She watched as Jeremy leaned on the bar and chatted with the bartender. She worked with quick, efficient moves as she poured the two drinks. When she slid the drinks across to Jeremy she made a comment, gave a slight nod toward Raquel, and smirked. Jeremy’s only response was a harrassed look, and a sharp shake of his head. He said something else, and the bartender nodded before disappearing through a pair of swinging doors and Raquel caught a glimpse of a kitchen. 

“Gin and tonic, extra lime.” Jeremy sat down the glass in front of her before sliding in across from her. 

“Thank you.” 

“I took the liberty of ordering us some food.” 

“Oh, one of those husbands, hm?” Raquel eyed him over the rim of her glass. 

He chuckled, a sound low in his throat. “Hardly. I just figured you should have the best thing on the menu.” 

“Fair enough.” She took a sip of her drink before setting it down primly. “So how are we building this rapport? Are we supposed to spend our time drunk so nothing matters? If that’s the case then I probably should have a martini instead, for the look of it.”

“We could, but then we’d never get any work done. Let’s start with this: what was little Raquel like? The real Raquel.” 

Strangely, that caught her off guard. She paused for a moment, hiding it by taking another sip of her drink. She wasn’t ever that keen on talking about herself, at least not beyond the superficial. There was no reason she had to tell him, she could deflect as she usually did. But that seemed counterproductive. And once again he seemed earnest. 

She took one more gulp of her drink. 

“I spent the first eight years of my life being doted on by a loving mother, while my absent father worked himself to the bone. As CEOs are wont to do.” She cast Jeremy a wry smile. “When one day my mother got sick, and she never got better. After her funeral, my father could barely look at me, so I went to live with my grandpa; my mother’s father. He doted on me in his own way, and it wasn’t all bad. He was a PI, so he talked shop with me a lot. Even after he officially retired. I thought it was fascinating, and I worshiped him. So when it came time to go to college I decided to ignore my father’s wishes of business and management and all that, and instead picked journalism. Now I’m here.” 

“What about you?” she asked before he could offer up any condolences or pity regarding her mother or father. Her life wasn’t bad by any means. She had been loved and well taken care of. That was what mattered. “What was little Jerry like?” 

“Well, no one called me ‘Jerry’ I can promise you that.” He swirled his glass, the dark amber liquid sloshing around. “I don’t know if you’d believe if I told you.” 

“Try me.” 

He grunted and lifted his glass. Tipping back his head he drained it in one long gulp before signaling the bartender for a refill. Against her better judgement Raquel downed her drink quickly, emptying it just as the bartender delivered two fresh glasses.

“For you and your not date,” she said as she placed the drinks in front of them, grabbing the empty glasses in a swift movement. 

Jeremy just glared as she disappeared back to the bar. Raquel could only glance between the two before settling on Jeremy with narrowed eyes. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Ignore her. She’s being a shit.” He took a swig of his drink. “So you know Jeremy the stockbroker for this whole thing? The rich motherfucker who you just kinda want to punch because you just know he’s a fucking douche?” 

Jeremy lifted his eyebrows in question. Raquel nodded slowly, and he continued. 

“I’m like a step away from him. Hell, I probably am him in another life. My family is rich. But they don’t even have to pretend to work, like big shot CEOs, they just rake it in hand over fist. Old, tainted money that makes me want to puke every time I think about how we got it all. So I grew up at those country clubs with those rich assholes, and unfortunately know way more about that life than I would ever care to.” 

The idea of Jeremy being some rich spoiled boy was hard to contrast with the man who sat before her, in a dingy bar with a ratty old t-shirt, fresh from working undercover in a maximum security prison. 

“How did you end up here?” Whether she meant the bar or in journalism or whatever else, she wasn’t really sure. Although it probably didn’t matter. 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Both my parents were absent, I was raised by nannies and maids and whoever else was their employee. The older I got, the more I resented them and that life. When it came to college I rebuked everything they offered and went to school on my own merits. I think... I hope. I worked my ass off doing any job that came my way, and paid my dues. My parents thought it was some phase, so they indulged me. They didn’t take me seriously until I was twenty-five, and able to claim my full inheritance. Which was a veritable fuckton of money. I took it, donated every dime, showed my parents the receipts and told them to fuck off.”

Jeremy snatched up his glass and took a sip, obviously a little agitated. It was probably the most honest she had ever seen him. She was surprised, and yet not. She was starting to admire him though. 

“I’m here because I want to tell the truth. I couldn’t be a cop or a lawyer, there’s too much corruption. Too many people bought off by people like my parents. Not to say there isn’t the same thing in journalism, but at least here I feel like there’s a chance. A chance to expose all the shit that they keep hidden. I didn’t ask for this assignment, Raquel, but as soon as I got it, I was thrilled. Part of me was hoping there would be names on Kavanaugh's list that I know. People who deserve to have their name dragged through the mud.” Jeremy leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as he looked Raquel squarely in the eyes. “That’s how I got here, and that’s why I promise you I’ll do whatever takes to help you uncover this story.” 

Before she could answer, or even really process all of her thoughts, their food arrived. A plate piled high with crispy french fries and a burger approximately the size of her head. Raquel could only eye it as a stack of napkins were tossed on the table, and the server scampered away. 

There was no silverware in sight, so there was nothing for it. Raquel picked up the burger and took a bite. She was certain she had grease and sauce covering her face, but she didn’t care. It was too delicious. As she chewed she looked at Jeremy; he was watching her, clearly amused by what he saw.

“Good?” he asked.

“Mhm!” she hummed before taking another bite. Unladylike and undignified. It was glorious. 

They lapsed into silence while they ate, although it wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. And for the first time since she had met him, Raquel thought she might actually be starting to understand Jeremy. At least until he surprised her again. 

“What was your mom like?” Jeremy asked half-way through their meal. 

Raquel picked up a fresh napkin and wiped her face, thinking. “She was…my mom. She was beautiful and graceful and smart; I thought she was the epitome of everything.” She looked up at Jeremy and shrugged a shoulder. 

“So like mother, like daughter then?” he said softly. So softly in fact, she wondered if he had really meant to say it at all. 

If she had an hour to think of a response, she might have come up with something. But for now all she could do was gape at him like a fish. The only thing that saved her was the bartender returning with another refill, and checking on their meal. 

Once she left, Raquel was still unsure what to say. If Jeremy noticed her inaction, or if he was embarrassed over what he had said or fazed in any way… he didn’t show it. Instead, he launched into the story about the first time he had to do prep Arty, and the chaos that ensued. 

Raquel was thankful she had been let off the hook, whether intentional or not. So she laughed along with Jeremy at the ridiculous story, while enjoying her meal and the company. And pretended that the heat in her cheeks was due to the gin.


End file.
